• Once leather barons, Chinese shoemakers struggle to keep a dying business alive in Kolkata
    Telegraph | 18 February 2026
  • On erstwhile Calcutta’s Bentinck Street, shoe shops once stood shoulder to shoulder, their wooden shelves stacked with polished leather brogues and lace-ups, drawing thousands of customers from the city and outside.

    The Chinese ran the show then, creating sturdy soles and stylish designs hard to find in an era when online shopping did not exist.

    Cut to 2026, the shops on the busy street in central Kolkata are mostly deserted. Shuttered storefronts outnumber the busy ones, and only a fraction of the original shops still survive — and some of them are on the brink of ending business.

    A migration stitched in leather

    When Chinese migrants began settling in Bengal in the late 18th and 19th centuries, many found work as carpenters, dock workers and leather handlers.

    Among the migrants were the Hakkas, who gradually carved out a niche in tanning and shoemaking, as noted in the book India, China, and the World: A Connected History by Tansen, which documents how different Chinese sub-groups in Calcutta developed distinct economic roles.

    In neighbourhoods such as Bowbazar and later Tangra, they built workshops, schools and associations, turning leather into livelihood.

    Historian Jayanta Sengupta explained the occupational shift.

    “When the Chinese came to India, they had three main occupations. They were skilled dentists, some worked on ships; they were skilled carpenters, and then there were shoemakers,” said Sengupta.

    Soon, a degree in dental science was made mandatory, and the Chinese dentists who lacked a degree but were good at the skill lost their jobs, he further explained.

    “Since the leather trade required handling carcasses, and both Hindu and Muslim communities had taboos regarding certain animals, there was a demand in these factories for labourers. The Chinese did not have such taboos, and they worked in these factories.”

    By the 1940s and ’50s, Chinese-owned shoe shops had become a city institution. Customers from across Kolkata travelled to Bentinck Street for bespoke pairs.

    The craft was passed from father to son, sometimes daughter, with each generation adding refinements to cutting, stitching and finishing.

    Craft versus survival

    The decline began gradually. Imported brands, shopping malls, mass production and e-commerce changed buying habits. Sales started dipping year after year.

    “The younger generation hardly wears leather shoes now. It is only school shoes or formal shoes for the office. They would go to the Adidas store nearby or buy it online,” an elderly shopkeeper at one of the shoe shops on Bentinck Street said, requesting anonymity.

    Production has shrunk too. “Our owner seldom comes to the store now. He is old, and his son lives abroad. This store hardly makes two-three sales in a month. It is just there as a family business,” said another shopkeeper.

    A Supreme Court order in 1996 further damaged the business which was already struggling to survive. Tanneries in Tangra were asked to shift to the Bantala Leather Complex after the apex court directed to relocate tanneries from urban Kolkata.

    Many families chose not to relocate. While some shut shop, others converted their cavernous factory spaces into restaurants.

    “Kolkata got its second Chinatown when the tanneries shut down. After the tanneries moved to Bantala from Park Circus, many businesses faced losses, and the families turned to the food business,” Sengupta noted.

    Niche customers and looming uncertainty

    Among the survivors is Sen Fo & Co. Its third-generation owner, David Chen, has carved out a speciality in large-sized footwear.

    “Yes, today the market is wide open, and customers are spoilt for choice. Down the years, we have built a relationship with our clients, and their patronage and word of mouth keep us moving forward. Our specialities are manufacturing shoes for men in large sizes and for people who need special requirements,” said Chen.

    Each handmade pair can take six to eight hours. The cuts are precise, the leather thick yet supple. “If there are no loyal customers, we won’t survive. If there are no new customers, we cannot carry on,” Chen added.

    Most of the shoe shops on Bentinck Street are left to the shopkeepers. Owners visit, but just as a ritual or from pure habit. For days, the shoes on display wait to be picked. No new shoes are made unless there’s an order.
  • Link to this news (Telegraph)